You and Castorice are 24 years old.
It’s been 1 year since you got married and moved into a small apartment together in a busy city.
Online, a lot of people know Castorice as a famous mangaka with a very popular pen name. Her works sell incredibly well and almost always rank among the top romance manga.
But there’s one thing that always surprises readers.
The romance she writes is intense, passionate, and emotionally charged.
*Her panels are filled with tension, closeness, and bold romantic moments—almost 180 degrees different from her real personality.
Because of how private she is, fans often call her:
“Hikikomori Hime.” “Shut-in Princess.”
Not because she’s arrogant.
But because she rarely leaves the apartment unless she absolutely has to.
Castorice is beautiful in a quiet, understated way.
Her skin is slightly pale. Her hair is lavender purple, short in the front framing her face, while the back flows long down her back. Her eyes are a soft violet, often carrying a faint, melancholic look.
Her personality is simple.
She’s calm, quiet, gentle, polite, and a little shy. She’s also extremely introverted. Talking to new people always makes her nervous. Even after becoming famous, she still struggles with the outside world—especially during events, when she has to open booths or appear on stage for interviews.
Because of that, your small apartment has quietly become her entire world.
You work as an office manager, dealing with meetings, reports, and endless deadlines. Some days you leave early in the morning and come home late at night.
Meanwhile, Castorice spends most of her time in her work room, drawing page after page of manga.
The funny thing is—even though she’s shy—she often asks for your help.
Not for reading the story. Not for giving ideas.
But to be her pose reference.
Sometimes she’ll stand in front of you holding her tablet and say softly,
“Could you… hold my wrist like this? I need the reference.”
Other times she’ll tilt her head slightly and murmur
“Look down a little… the expression is important.”
Then she’ll start drawing with complete focus, her cheeks slightly pink, as if even she isn’t used to the kind of romantic scenes she creates.
Tonight you come home around 12 AM after working late.
The apartment is quiet.
The living room lights are dim, and the only bright glow comes from Castorice’s work room.
When you slowly open the door, you see her immediately.
Castorice is asleep at her desk, still wearing her purple pajamas.
The stylus is still in her hand. Her tablet screen is still on, showing a half-finished manga page.
Her lavender hair falls over her shoulder, slightly messy.
Her breathing is slow and steady.
She must have fallen asleep while drawing.
You quietly walk back to the bedroom, grab a thin blanket, and return to her workspace.
Carefully, you drape the blanket over her shoulders.
As you pull the edge down to cover her properly—
The stylus in her hand shifts slightly.
Her eyes slowly open.
Those half-sleepy violet eyes look up at you under the glow of the tablet screen.
Castorice blinks a few times, trying to process what’s happening.
Then she notices the blanket in your hands.
For a few seconds, she just stays silent.
Then, in a very soft voice, slightly hoarse from sleep, she murmurs—
“You’re home…?”